


anywhere you want

by imagines



Series: decent company [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aftercare, Bathing, Body Worship, Dirty Talk, Fluffy Smut, Intercrural Sex, Kings on Ice Zine, M/M, Porn with Feelings, injury care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 01:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagines/pseuds/imagines
Summary: Yuri smooths down his mussed hair. “I can’t really do anything too, ahh…strenuous. Acrobatic. You know?” His lips twist; he clearly hates talking about all the things his injury forbids.J.J. leans down to him, kissing his frustrated mouth until he relaxes again. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem. I’ve got ideas.”“Oh, do you? Care to share?”“As a matter of fact, I would.” J.J. slides down Yuri’s body, leaving a line of soft open-mouthed kisses on his belly along the way, loving the flutter of muscle under his lips. By the time he gets to the main event, Yuri’s already panting and hard. “Doesn’t take much for you, huh?” [Sex with a broken foot is difficult. Good thing they're creative.]





	anywhere you want

**Author's Note:**

> Second one of my fics for the [Kings on Ice zine](https://kingsonicezine.tumblr.com). :)

~~~~There are a few metaphors J.J. could apply to this situation: An earthquake, frozen in the midst of its tremors. A volcano, choked off just before the moment of eruption. A wildfire, pinned and raging against its bonds. Catastrophes on pause. J.J. wants devastation; he wants to be shaken apart and swallowed by flames. The night before, they’d raced each other toward a storm, drawn by the promise of lightning—but they’d halted at the edge of it, where the stark line lay between dry earth and deluge. Tonight, standing just inside the door to Yuri’s apartment, routine greetings already conveyed, J.J.’s lost the path to the tempest.

They look each other up and down. Well, J.J. does much of the looking up, ensnared by bitten lips and golden hair. Yuri does more of the looking down; and if there’s a wildfire, it’s crackling away in J.J.’s belly and causing all sorts of problems. By the way the corner of Yuri’s mouth lifts, J.J.’s positive the effect of Yuri’s scrutiny is…visible.

Yuri’s wearing threadbare gray sweatpants and a faded T-shirt J.J. recognizes. He reaches out, plucking at the hem. “You still have this?” The print of the tiger’s face has worn off in places, and there’s a hole ripped in the collar.

“I’ll wear this shirt until it literally falls apart. It’s _awesome_.” Yuri jerks his head at the couch. “Wanna sit down?”

J.J. takes a deep breath. Now or never, right? “We could go to your room.”

“Are you saying you want to fuck me in my bed?”

Well, if there was any doubt about what this is, it’s vanished with the remaining fragments of J.J.’s self-restraint. “I’ll fuck you anywhere you want me to.”

Yuri’s chest rises on a sharp gasp. “This way,” he says.

 

In Yuri’s room, the walls are a mosaic of band posters and giant prints of big cats. The shelves by his bed strain under a jumble of paperback books, although the very top shelf contains a neat row of small picture frames: Yuri’s grandfather sitting by a lake, Victor and Yuuri with Yuri caught in a hug between them, Mila in a Biellmann spiral, and a photobooth strip of four little black-and-white pictures of Otabek and Yuri. J.J. isn’t surprised by any of these things, but in the corner, there’s a desk with a laptop, headphones, and pad controller. “Getting into DJing?” he asks.

Yuri shrugs. “Beka’s been showing me some stuff. We’re composing my free skate music next season.”

“Cool,” J.J. says, inexplicably feeling like he’s been punched in the solar plexus. Of course Yuri collaborates with his best friend. J.J. has been many things to Yuri—competition, sworn enemy, and now whatever this is—but _friend_ has never been a title he’s held. And right in the middle of a hookup is not the time for weird, pointless jealousy.

Yuri doesn’t notice J.J.’s mini freak-out. He’s busy clambering onto the bed, the boot hampering his usual grace. J.J. follows him, and when Yuri’s arranged himself comfortably, J.J. hooks his fingers into the waistband of Yuri’s sweatpants and draws them down slowly over his hips. He pauses for a good look—and it is a _good_ look.

“I can barely get pants on,” Yuri tells him, as if reading his mind. “Underwear’s not gonna happen right now.”

“Who cares? The whole point right now is to get your clothes _off_.” J.J. tosses the sweatpants onto the floor and gets to work pulling Yuri’s T-shirt over his head.

Yuri smooths down his mussed hair. “I can’t really do anything too, ahh…strenuous. Acrobatic. You know?” His lips twist; he clearly hates talking about all the things his injury forbids.

J.J. leans down to him, kissing his frustrated mouth until he relaxes again. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem. I’ve got ideas.”

“Oh, do you? Care to share?”

“As a matter of fact, I would.” J.J. slides down Yuri’s body, leaving a line of soft open-mouthed kisses on his belly along the way, loving the flutter of muscle under his lips. By the time he gets to the main event, Yuri’s already panting and hard. “Doesn’t take much for you, huh?”

“Shut up,” Yuri orders, teeth gritted.

J.J. catches his gaze and holds it, his lips millimeters from Yuri’s cock. “Why don’t you make me?”

Yuri gets the drift. He takes hold of J.J.’s hair, never breaking eye contact. “Ready?”

In answer, J.J. opens his mouth, giving a tiny lick to the underside of the head.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Yuri breathes. He guides J.J. down, sliding heavy and hot into his mouth.

J.J. lets Yuri set the pace, concentrating on his breathing. It’s been awhile since he’s indulged himself like this—and until yesterday, he’d never have imagined Yuri would ever take him up on such a proposition.

“Never knew you liked this so much.” Yuri’s rhythm is beginning to falter, and J.J. pulls back; there’s so much more he wants to do before he lets Yuri come.

“I like a lot of things,” he tells Yuri. “When you’re all healed up, maybe I can show you.”

“Can’t wait.” Yuri grabs J.J.’s shirt collar and drags him back up. Unceremoniously, he sticks his hands down the back of J.J.’s jeans.

“Careful,” J.J. warns. “Wouldn’t want to find out what I’m modeling, would you?”

“ _God_ no.” Yuri tilts his head back, letting J.J. nibble and suck at his throat. “That would be awful. Fuck, do that harder.”

J.J. bares his teeth against Yuri’s skin. “You want marks?”

“It’s gonna be over a month before anyone sees me in a costume. Knock yourself out.”

J.J. gives his throat a sharp bite, grinding down against Yuri’s bare cock, leaving Yuri gasping and pawing at J.J.’s zipper.

“ _Off_ ,” Yuri growls.

“You got it,” J.J. says. “Prepare to be amazed!” He wriggles out of his T-shirt and jeans and kicks them onto the floor, leaving only his underwear. Which are tight little shiny red briefs. He turns around on his knees, giving Yuri an up-close-and-personal view of his ass.

“Oh my god,” Yuri says. He does not sound particularly scandalized, let alone aroused; the tone of his voice is reminiscent of someone who’s been handed a necklace strung with diamonds _and_ a large quantity of dyed macaroni noodles.

“They’re my own line!” J.J. informs him. “It’s called _JJStyle_. One word.”

“You didn’t.”

“I most certainly did.”

“They say _BITE ME_.”

“Yes,” J.J. concurs. “In Swarovski crystals!”

“ _This_ is the brand that works for you?”

“I’d say it’s working for me right now.” J.J. faces him again, crawling to straddle his hips. “Am I wrong?”

Yuri rolls his eyes, but his cheeks have gone an incredibly attractive shade of pink.

J.J. can’t help himself; he’s gotta kiss Yuri a few more times. His cheeks of course, and his forehead, and his mouth. “Roll on your side,” he whispers. “I wanna fuck you now.” His underwear joins the rest of their discarded clothing.

Yuri raises his eyebrows, glancing down at his foot. “I’m not sure if…”

“Just my fingers,” J.J. clarifies. “If you’re up for it.”

Yuri’s blush is spreading down his chest. “Oh. I am up for that. Yes.”

Yuri twists onto his left side, and J.J. lies down behind him, snuggling up close. He gets his fingers slick and reaches down, and Yuri whimpers at the first touch. J.J. stills his hand. “Yeah?” he murmurs against the nape of Yuri’s neck.

“Yeah, fuck, _oh fuck_ —”

“There you go,” J.J. says, biting back endearments. “Just like that. Fuck, you needed this, didn’t you?”

Yuri wraps a hand around himself as J.J. moves in him. “Need your cock,” he gasps. “ _God_ , I wish you could.”

Yuri charges through life at high velocity, refusing to shave down his jagged edges. He likes it rough and wild, with a touch of poor judgement—it seems only physical damage curbs his intensity. Must be maddening to hold still for a slow fuck with gentle fingers. “Another time,” J.J. promises. “You could even fuck me if you wanted.”

“Yeah,” Yuri says, getting into the spirit of things. “I’d make you hold your legs up and show me your hole. Bet it’s cute.”

“Not as cute as yours. I’d want you to use me. Just fuck me till I come and then _keep_ fucking me. I’d be so good for you, I’d make you feel so good.” J.J. finds a spot that makes Yuri moan. “Is that it? Right there, baby?” The word slips out before he can stop it, but either Yuri doesn’t care or he’s too distracted to notice.

Yuri’s a master of willpower, still speaking his lovely, indecent mind even through his gasps. “When I’m done, I’ll put you on your hands and knees—tell you to stay, be good and take it— _ah_ , I’ll play with your hole, see how many fingers I can fit after I’ve had my cock in you, I’ll kiss it too—oh fuck, don’t _fucking_ stop—”

J.J. buries his face in Yuri’s soft hair, promising him everything. “Not gonna stop, gonna make you come, _god_ you’re so beautiful, let me see it, Yuri, let me see you come—” and Yuri’s almost sobbing against the pillows; his whole body jerks, and he slumps against J.J., abruptly quiet. J.J. pulls out of him, so so gently, Yuri’s breath catching as he does so. Nothing could have prepared him for the way Yuri feels in his arms, his delicate yet powerful frame glazed in sweat and trembling.

J.J.’s dick is pressed against the small of Yuri’s back, and he ruts against him a little. “Ooh,” Yuri says. “Want something?”

“Yeah—you.” With Yuri, honesty and bluntness get you everywhere.

He can hear the smile in Yuri’s voice. “I could jerk you off? I could probably even blow you, or—wait, I know—” Yuri sits halfway up, scrabbling in the sheets till he finds the bottle of lube. “What about like this?” He reaches down, slicking himself up between his legs. “Fuck me here.”

“Holy shit,” J.J. breathes. “Yeah, I can do that.” He wraps an arm around Yuri’s waist, drawing him tight against his chest, and pushes into the tight squeeze of his thighs. J.J.’s so close already that it’s only moments until he’s coming all over Yuri’s legs.

Yuri rolls over to face him. “Look at this mess.” He drags his fingertips through the streaks of come on his stomach and thighs. “You made me all dirty.”

“I’ll clean you up.”

“Yeah? There’s washcloths in the bathroom.”

“Actually, I was thinking of a bubble bath or something?”

Yuri’s eyes go wide. “I have not had a bath in _weeks_ ,” he sighs. “I’ve been showering on, like, a fucking plastic lawn chair.”

“Then it’s settled,” J.J. tells him.

Yuri unstraps his boot, and J.J. gets him situated in a bath full of clouds of bubbles that fill the air with the scent of spice and roses. Kneeling beside the tub, he scrubs Yuri all over with the softest cloth he can find. Under his attentions, Yuri blinks leisurely like a cat in the sunlight, boneless in the warm water. He sighs while J.J. washes him between his legs; bites his lip when J.J. rubs his tender hole to clean off all the lube and come. But it’s when J.J. cups his left ankle and carefully bathes his injured foot that Yuri actually groans. “Feeling good?” J.J. asks.

“Mmf,” is all Yuri says, his eyes closed now.

J.J. gently lowers Yuri’s foot back into the water and sets the washcloth aside, but he doesn’t stop touching Yuri. He searches for tension in Yuri’s muscles and works out the knots, listening to Yuri’s deep, slow breathing. He cups Yuri’s soft cock for a moment—not to instigate anything; just because Yuri’s body delights him, and Yuri delights him too. He massages Yuri’s hands and kisses each fingertip, watching Yuri smile. Whatever this is, it’s good.

 

Afterward, J.J. changes the sheets and takes a quick shower himself, and they end up back in bed together, this time just to rest.

“So,” Yuri says, tucked up against J.J. and etching lazy patterns on J.J.’s chest with a fingernail. “You said ‘another time,’ huh? You wanna do this again or something?”

J.J. runs his palm down Yuri’s ribcage. “I wanna do _you_ again.”

“Mmm, sounds nice.” Yuri looks up at him. Caught in the heat of his sea-glass gaze, J.J. couldn’t move if he wanted to. “You know, I heard you call me _baby_.”

“That so?” J.J. tries to sound like he’s chill about it, but he can feel himself turning red.

Yuri curls closer to kiss his throat. “You should do it again. When you’ve got your pretty hole stretched around my cock, and I’m fucking you so hard you barely know your own name, then I want you to call me _baby_.”

J.J. could spark a forest fire, his face is so hot. “Sounds like a plan.”

Yuri’s quiet for a moment, the scrape of his nail on J.J.’s skin unceasing. Then his lips tighten into a thin line, and he takes a shaky breath. “J.J., by the way…is there anything we should talk about?”

J.J. considers brushing it off, but Yuri would never fall for it. “Like what?”

Yuri spreads his hand flat over J.J.’s heart. “I think you know,” he says. “Are you going to make me spell it out?”

One last desperate attempt at evasion: “I’ve liked you for years, you know that.”

Yuri rises up over J.J., holding him down against the bed. “Kiss me,” he commands. “Then tell me you don’t have anything to say.”

Something inside J.J. snaps like a glowstick, lighting him up from his core to the tips of his fingers and toes. He understands, all at once in a full-body kind of way, that Yuri desires honesty in all things. In a moment, he’ll have to explain out loud what he hardly comprehends himself, fumbling through nervous ambiguity toward a blazing truth. His words will lack artistry, so he offers a physical prelude, putting a hand around the back of Yuri’s neck. “Come here,” he says softly, and pulls Yuri down.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise, these fics were the first time I ever wrote Pliroy! And it was so much fun. ;)
> 
> As always, you can [find me on tumblr](https://belovedsheith.tumblr.com), although these days I'm mostly yelling about Voltron. <3


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